Money, Money
by bhut
Summary: After Skye's semi-defection leaves the team still reeling, the team has to go back to Peru to work on their teamwork and to defect a trap. Sadly, there are vampires who have their own ideas and plans. A minor BtVS-crossover.
1. Chapter 1

**Money, Money (part 1)**

_Disclaimer: none of the characters are mine but belong to Marvel™ and Josh Whedon._

_Note: this story contains spoilers._

_Tumbes, Peru_

It was dark. It was late in the evening, almost night. An elderly man was getting into his car after a long day's work. Carefully, for the old man was not exactly paranoid, but still cautious, or even timid, in his habits, he checked his mirrors – mostly to see any late night traffic and what to avoid.

No, nothing, all was clear. Good. The old man put his car keys to start up the car – and it was when the shadow rose from his back seat and grabbed him before the man could respond. The car rocked back and forth some in the struggle, but that was brief – after all, the man was elderly, and the shadow that had not reflected in his car's mirrors had been a vampire...

_Elsewhere, S.H.I.E.L.D._

Agent Coulson had had better days. Certainly he had had worse days too – when he was stabbed through his heart, for example – but mostly better. He never expected Skye's semi-defection to go over easily with his team, but somehow he had not quite imagined this.

It was also his fault, he had to admit – not just Skye's about-face, he had not expected it – but also how he handled Fitz when the latter got self-righteous on Coulson's part. Coulson never enjoyed righteousness, not even from director Hill, and frankly Fitz was no director Hill, as Coulson told the younger man. Sadly, Fitz did not handle criticism so well – after he e-mailed Coulson the finger he kept quiet...

Some elaboration was probably necessary at this point. Among other things that Coulson failed to recognize was just how quiet his people could get. Skye, for all of her faults and usual sarcasm, _had_ lived in a van for a time, and so she could keep quiet for a long period of time – just as long any regular S.H.I.E.L.D. agent could. Ward and May, of course, were naturally quiet, especially when no one prodded them to talk, and Fitz had Simmons for company and for quiet conversation in their lab – yes, the FitzSimmons duo could be quiet if they wanted to, on a reasonable level at least. And as a result, Coulson's team had become as quiet as previously it was noisy – and Coulson did not like it.

Make no mistake, Coulson _could_ do quiet, no arguments about it, but he did not like it either. That said, there was not a lot he could do, especially since the problems ran deeper than the sound of silence.

Skye... Coulson honestly did not know what to do with her. In the beginning, after the entire Hooded Hero situation, if Skye had refused to cooperate he would have simply passed her on to the local law enforcement and been done with her. You can lead a horse to water but you cannot make it drink, and working in S.H.I.E.L.D. was not for everyone either. Now, however, after the street-smart hacker had been involved in too many S.H.I.E.L.D. operations that was no longer an option – Skye would come around or her expectations of the agency would come true: a self-fulfilling prophecy if there ever was one...and a very disappointing one as well.

On the other hand, there was the family of the late agent Kwan. Coulson did not expect that money sent from Milton's account would make things easier, but still the Kwan were almost overly hostile, frankly suggesting that whatever else Coulson said, it was S.H.I.E.L.D.'s fault for not shipping the self-proclaimed Scourge over to the Xavier institute and be done with him. If only! The truth was that the relationship between S.H.I.E.L.D. and the mighty mutant telepath was much rockier than how it appeared, the professor and Fury had locked horns in the past, and the colonel was not always the winner...

"You got mail!" the computer voice beeped.

Coulson frowned. Not many people knew his email and most of them were his coworkers. Considering that right now most them were beginning to chose sides between Fury and Hill it was unlikely that any of them would contact him right now, so odds were that it was Fitz with another finger or some other childish gesture of defiance. Maybe this time he should actually talk with the youngster about sulking and attitude in general... he opened the message.

Immediately a new window opened. "Yes?" Coulson said with obvious surprise when a face of a balding, middle-aged, moustached and bespectacled man appeared on his screen. "Agent... Agent Drake, right?"

"Yes, it is me, thank you for remembering me," the other agent nodded gratefully. "So sorry to bother you sir, but we have a bit of a situation on our hands-"

"I'm listening," Coulson nodded warily: he did not tend to be prejudiced and he generally left profiling to the experts, but he never liked Drake – the man was just too politically perceptive for an agent...

And as he listened to Drake's requests, Coulson's suspicions grew.

"We'll be there," he said flatly and turned the internet connection off. "May? Where are you and the rest?"

Naturally, May and the others were found in the company of each other, though once again, unlike earlier weeks, the entire group was keeping quiet and ignoring each other...except for the FitzSimmons duo, but even they were much more subdued than the usual.

"Ok, we're going to Tumbes," Coulson said briskly.

Pause, just five pairs of eyes staring at him silently: somehow, in all of their fall-out, they became united in their distrust for him. Either that or blind obedience – Coulson did not know what was worse. "Right, so it's in Peru – northwest Peru if anyone's wondering, so get to it."

"Yes sir," May replied with a generous amount of sarcasm. "Will we be running into your old flame again, as when we did with the 084?"

"Maybe," Coulson said when he noticed something in the corner of his eye – he turned around and the younger agents were gone, to their battle stations, most likely, but still.

"You asked me on purpose-" Coulson turned back to May, but she was gone as well and judging by the sounds of the plane - to her cabin, as she prepared to lift off.

"Well, that's just great," Coulson muttered to himself. "I just hope that I am not making a mistake."

Silence was his only answer

_TBC_


	2. Chapter 2

**Money, Money (part 2)**

_Disclaimer: none of the characters are mine but belong to Marvel™ and Josh Whedon._

_Note: this story contains spoilers._

_Tumbes, Peru_

"So, it's nice to see that everyone is still on board," Coulson decided to break the ice after several hours of silence. Oh certainly, everyone had been on board of the plane – there had been no defectors – but to all intents and purposes they might as well have been absent. Even Fitz and Simmons did their best (it was not anywhere good enough, but still) to avoid company, and Skye and Grant actually _did_. It was annoying and Coulson intended to do something about this: his team will learn to work together despite any personal conflicts or it will not be a team at all. In the turbulent times of Hill vs. Fury it would not be that hard to dissolve a team... or make a new one... not that Coulson planned to do the latter, but if his underlings could not learn to work together, they would fail together instead.

Not that Coulson intended, let alone wanted, for that to happen, but still – you never know. Until few weeks ago he thought that his team would have no loyalty problems but now he was wrong.

Still, he had a plan to fix this – or at least to try to fix this, and he hoped that it would work. Otherwise, it would be a fail – the biggest one in his career.

"All right, listen up," Coulson said instead. "Our fellow agent, agent Drake-"

May made a disdainful noise.

"Yes?" Coulson decided not to reprimand May this time – encouraging her would be more productive.

"Nothing," May said firmly. "Agent Drake is a fine man and his mishap with the Hulk cannot be held against him-"

There was a brief exchange of glances before the four younger people but no words. "Come on, come on," Coulson coaxed, encouraged even by this development. "Anyone got any comments? Criticisms, opinions? Let's hear them."

Everyone looked warily instead at Coulson, clearly unsure how to deal with him. "Oh, come on!" Coulson said brightly. "What's up with the mutual silence? We're a team!"

"Yes, we are," May spoke up suddenly. "Doesn't mean that we have to like that."

Coulson whirled around. "May..."

"Coulson," the team's pilot matched him glare for glare. "You want to go and talk in private?"

"Yes," Coulson's gaze did not waver; neither did the pilot's. "We should. Ward, you are coming to us to talk to Davis; the rest of you will be on the stakeout at this location."

"Why?" Simmons spoke up for the first time.

"Read the information," Coulson said flatly. "You should've been here for the briefing-"

"There was no briefing-"

"Because there were no personnel."

"There was agent May-"

"She was flying the plane."

"So? She still should have been briefed-"

"Let me out of this," May said calmly. "Agent Coulson will brief _now_ as we go and meet agent Drake. Agent Ward – you will be driving."

There was a pause. In practice it _was_ Coulson, who was in charge of the team, but just now May spoke in such a tone of voice that not even Ward intended to argue with her, even if Coulson did.

"No. You're right, you're right," Coulson did not back down per se, but he clearly was not going to fight in public either. "I will brief you, but the rest of you? You are going to the stakeout; you can read the information I emailed you on your own time. Any questions? No? Dismissed."

Everyone left.

/

The sun was setting. The sky was clear – wherever it could be seen. The buildings were not particularly tall – at least not as tall as they were in NYC or Boston – but they were still tall and crowded closely together, creating thin, twisting streets, not quite appropriate for driving larger cars – the lookout van was almost too wide to drive here.

"So, you've got fruit?" Simmons carefully asked, deciding to break the silence again, seeing how neither Fitz to Skye intended to break the silence first.

"Yes. They're filling, thirst-quenching and you don't need to pee so often," Skye said curtly but not exactly rudely. "I've got water too, if you want it."

"Ha!" Fitz said loudly but not really rude either. "Shows what you know!"

"Exactly!" Skye said calmly. "I'm the one who lived in a van, remember?"

"And you're not boasting," Fitz said thoughtfully. "You really did live in a van? Are you agoraphobic, maybe?"

"What's that?"

"Afraid of open spaces. You really like tight spaces, I noticed-"

"Maybe I am. Does it matter?"

"Probably not. Why did you do it?"

"Are we talking about the van?"

"Take your pick."

"Ok. I did it because Miles was friend, initially my boyfriend too – I couldn't just send him down the creek without a paddle."

"No, instead Philip released him into Hong Kong without practically any support-"

"Miles, and that's the reason why I left him – well, one of the reasons – is paranoid. Really, really paranoid. In other words, he probably expected something like that from Coulson – and since when the two of you are on a first-name basis?"

"He is not," Simmons spoke up brightly, as she stopped chewing her Asian pear. "He is just being himself." She paused and added. "So, what do you think about this case?"

"It's not exactly petty, that's the wrong word – it's small. Yes, a printer has gone missing-"

"Can't they just buy another one?" Fitz spoke up, upset at being ignored.

"We're talking about an actual person," Skye glared at him.

"Ah, you mean a printmaker," Fitz nodded sagely. "Fair enough. What about him?"

"He's missing, doofus!" Simmons spoke-up, before blushing. "I mean-"

"No, Fitz is right," Skye said suddenly. "This is what I meant. This is not an agent or anyone like that; S.H.I.E.L.D. is sworn to serve and protect, but this does not feel like our usual case – and you feel it too, Mr. Senior Agent."

"No, I don't feel anything," Fitz said stubbornly, "and, uh, I and Jemma aren't really field agents, and you know it." He paused. "Mind you," he looked at the sky, where birds, coming to rest for the night were etching black streaks in the still-blue sky, "I don't want to fight – not that we had a fight-"

"No, _I_ was wrong," Skye shook her head. "I should've negotiated with Coulson first, but Miles...he was my first friend." She looked away. "Never mind."

"Yes, well, he was still a jerk – but at least his money will be used to pay the losses of the Kwans," Fitz shook his head. "I mean-" he paused and looked at Skye. "Yes?"

"When agent May and others get back remind me to tell them about Miles, his paranoia and money," Skye said thoughtfully. "Probably I'm making a mountain out of a molehill, but still-" She paused and shivered. "Anyways."

From further down the block came the sound of a car alarm. Instinctively – none of the three ever admitted to actually taking charge, the lookout van streaked through the twisting streets...

/

_Meanwhile..._

"Why are we meeting him here?" Ward frowned in thought even as he drove the other car. "I do not have anything against subterfuge, but this feels wrong."

"Because it does feel wrong," May spoke from her own position – next to the younger agent: it is not that she didn't trust him with the vehicle, but rather she would be happier to drive it instead of anyone else, including other agents, even Coulson. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has all kinds of people, but Drake is a politician first and foremost and cares only about his hide – and it, after the disastrous hunt for the Hulk, had taken a beating – from Fury and Coulson, not the Hulk, otherwise there wouldn't be anything left of Drake to bury-"

"Melinda, stop. You're getting carried away," Coulson said quietly in an atypical tone of voice (for him).

"Maybe. But he has to know with whom we are dealing with. Why are we dealing with him, Coulson?"

"Because our team needs to recover, and Drake's request sounded like a very good reason... but where is Drake?"

"He's on a vacation due to health issues," a man who was decisively _not _agent Drake, but with a much more formidable appearance stepped forwards towards the agents' car. "Greetings, agent Coulson. I heard that you were getting married?"

"And hello to you too, seignior colonel," Coulson said smoothly. "How's Camilla doing? Has she recovered after her stay at our place?"

"Yes. Her career, however, had not – not yet."

"I'm sorry to hear this," Coulson sounded genuinely contrite. "I'm sure though that whatever you are planning for us will not help it. S.H.I.E.L.D. will not let slide-"

"You know about the missing printer?"

"You're missing office equipment?" Ward spoke up before he could help himself (Skye rubbed more off him than he would have admitted.) "Can't you just buy new one?"

"He means a printmaker, a person," Coulson explained in the following silence. "That said, colonel, there is something of a point – can't your police force solve this?"

"It can, aye, but it is a challenge," the colonel said calmly.

"What?" Coulson suddenly sat very still.

"It is a challenge. For you. Solve this, and we are done. Fail this, and we're still done, but the shoe will be on the other foot, as you Yankees say."

"...Very well," Coulson said after a very brief pause. "You will get your missing person-" His comm.-link beeped. "Yes?" He paused and nodded. "We're on our way. Colonel, it has been interesting to see you. Ward, here's the new location."

"On it," the younger agent nodded thoughtfully and the car drove away. The colonel was left looking at its retreating backside with a very peculiar look on his face...

_TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

**Money, Money (part 3)**

_Disclaimer: none of the characters are mine but belong to Marvel™ and Josh Whedon._

_Note: this story contains spoilers._

_Tumbes, Peru_

It was night. It was dark. All six agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. were currently standing among four cars (only two belonged to them) and were busy having a discussion.

"So, Skye, what has happened here?" Coulson asked immediately when it became obvious that Fitz and Simmons were busy with their little machines instead and were not quite paying attention to their surroundings.

"Another kidnapping."

"Oh? Of whom?"

"Of the owner of the car number two – the one that's positioned in the street and not across it," Skye said carefully. "That car actually belongs to our missing printer, I mean the printmaker."

There was a pause, as Coulson gesticulated to Skye for her to pause as he thought it over. "They knew each other?" he finally asked.

"I'm working on it, but it is slower with this cuff."

"Fair enough. Go on."

"There isn't much to go on. The printer's – printmaker's car – has been mostly untouched, at least from the outside; the engraver's car was. Touched from the outside, I mean. Well, more than just touched."

"Oh?" Coulson appeared to be rather fond of this short word lately. "Let me see. Oh my!"

The reason for the latter exclamation was obvious: the engraver's rather inexpensive car was noticeably smashed in the front.

"The blow," Ward, who was already studying this vehicle, spoke up, "came from the sky and was concentrated in a relatively narrow area – right here, where the car's hood is smashed most of all."

"This _is_ narrow," Coulson agreed, studying the car equally attentively. "Any idea what – or who – did it?"

"No," Ward shook his head. "I'm not a mechanic and cannot really tell what's missing or what's out of place or just doesn't belong here. May?"

"I need a more detailed examination. Where are the local police?"

"They won't come."

"What?! Why?"

"Because the colonel has a lot of influence in Tumbes and this is between us and him. The police will not interfere unless we drag them in-"

"Wait. What colonel?" Simmons suddenly spoke up as she stopped examining the printmaker's car.

"Camilla's patron and superior. He's a decent person, or at least used to be," Coulson paused, picking his words with care. "We used to get along fairly decently, but on occasion we used to challenge one another – sort of an intellectual duel, you see. In any case, Fitz, what do you have?"

"Nothing!" Fitz said brightly, before adding. "I mean, the insides of this vehicle are clean – there are only fingerprints of the rightful owner."

"Mine are not!" Simmons spoke up from her end. "There was someone else besides the printmaker here. To the lab – sir?"

"Yes, let's," Coulson said sounding almost curious despite himself. "And secure the vehicles too – if we ever get to the local police they will be clues."

"Got it."

/

"So, what do we have?" Coulson asked when his team were back on their plane HQ and ready for new achievements.

"Three sets of fingerprints," Simmons spoke up. "This set of fingerprints belongs to the printmaker." A photo of an elderly gentleman appeared on screen. "This one – to the engraver." A photo of a younger, darker man joined that of the printmaker. "And this one – to the third party, seemingly deceased. I don't know who he is, but he is dead, at least legally."

"And physiologically – I know this man, though I don't this man – I mean his name. I don't know it," Skye muttered almost too quickly for her brain to catch up to her mouth.

"Well, what do you know?" Coulson insisted.

"He's a vampire."

There was a pause. "Not again," May groaned.

"Again?"

"13 years ago, in 2000, our military tried to work with vampires and other 'subterrestrials' in California," May said bitterly. "It failed and things went very, very badly – they would've been worse if it wasn't for some local talent, you may say."

"Anyone we know?" Ward spoke up.

"No, doubtful," May shook her head. "Coulson, any chance that your friend-"

"I don't know," Coulson confessed. "After Camilla tried to take over our plane..." He trailed away before abruptly changing his topic and turning to Skye. "So how do you know him?"

"I brokered a meeting between them and Rising Tide," Skye said simply. "This particular fellow came over to me one evening, tore off the door from my van and promised to demolish the rest of it before taking a breather and doing the same to me unless I comply. Living in a van was adventurous enough – living in a _damaged_ van would've been something else, so I complied." She paused and added. "Anyways, how does this relate to our current case? Is this a local repeat of California 2000?"

"I hope not," Coulson said slowly. "But in any case. Now that we know who we are looking for, let us go and look for. Can you access the security systems for the missing people?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then do it!"

And muttering something under her breath, Skye complied.

_TBC_


	4. Chapter 4

**Money, Money (part 4)**

_Disclaimer: none of the characters are mine but belong to Marvel™ and Josh Whedon._

_Note: this story contains spoilers._

_Tumbes, Peru_

Several hours later Skye was able to locate the men in question – they were located in a harbor warehouse. (Actually, she found them earlier, but after some Internet checking she also discovered that a printing press and similar supplies had been also shipped to that warehouse as well and that discovery took time of its own.) "So, there we are," she said simply to the other agents. "That's our men – well, two of them, anyways. The third I am not so sure – I believe that he has his own Master-"

The capital letter in the word 'Master' clearly warranted its own explanation, but Fitz spoke up before anyone else did and distracted everyone – sort of:

"So do we now call agent Coulson's military friends or what?"

"No, we bring him down," Coulson shook his head. "It is unlikely that Peru has launched its own Initiative project, but after the incident with the 084 we cannot take this chance. Fitz, Simmons, did you finish with the photonic bullets?"

"Yes, it was a simple enough modification – just replacing the chemicals in the tranquilizer shots," Simmons explained instead. "They should work... well, in theory. If we had better study material-"

"Don't," Coulson said curtly. "I've met Dr. Walsh only briefly but I do know that she was not the sort of a person you should be imitating-"

"Dr. Walsh was a brilliant scientist-"

"She was our, American, version of Dr. Frankenstein who got killed by her own creation - anyways, is everyone ready to go out? Except for the lab workers, of course-"

"You mean us?" Fitz piped up.

Coulson gave the younger man a look. Apparently, after several days of silence everyone, especially the younger members of the team, were trying to compensate very vigorously; that was good news, but right now – not so much.

"Yes, I mean you two," he said flatly. "Is everyone else ready? Then let's move!"

/

To Coulson's surprise, and perhaps also his annoyance, their journey took longer than he expected. First, relatively early own, Skye had Ward stop at a church that was still open (did churches ever close in a Catholic country, though?) and went inside. Coulson, whose own relationship with Skye (not that relationship, of course) was not particularly amused and prepared to exit the vehicle and reprimand her sharply, when May faced him and explained that this stop was allowed by her, which was in the rules, so let's hear it from Coulson instead. (And by Coulson she meant him.) This won Skye enough time to return from the church bearing several bottles of holy water (well, supposedly holy) instead. Considering that with vampires being a one-trick pony was not a good idea, Coulson relented.

Secondly, there was the city itself. At this late (or early?) hour the traffic was not particularly bad, but the streets was narrow, and twisting, and relatively hard to navigate as well, even with a GPS. True, Coulson's red car could actually fly, but here, in the not-exactly-friendly country, he was loathing tipping his hand too early and so they drove instead.

Eventually, though, they did arrive at their destination and split "in a classic pincer maneuver", as they would say later. Right now though, Ward and Skye prepared to sneak in the back while Coulson and May went to the front.

And that is when the situation came in contact with the enemy; first, though, Ward and Skye had something else to discuss.

"What exactly did you see in Miles?" Ward asked despite his intentions after Skye commented that this was like the old times. "He is just a fast-talker without any personal ethos!"

"I know that, but he is also a very brilliant programmer," Skye admitted. "Besides, he was the first man to be ever interested in me, shared my interests and hobbies... and besides, why do you care? You are a robot! Don't you have a lady robot to match your interests?"

"Me and agent May have nothing," Ward instinctively defended himself. "Well, we have mutual interests, but a greater part of S.H.I.E.L.D. has mutual interests. Fitz and Simmons have other mutual interests... never mind. Bad example." The attraction between the two of them was obvious to everyone, except for Fitz and Simmons themselves. "The thing is I don't have a lady robot...or a robot...or a lady...why am I explaining it to you? You're the one in the wrong!"

"Because, my friend, it's feminine logic, and you're talking to Rising Tide girl. She's crazier than the rest!"

There was a pause as Ward and Skye, genuinely startled for once, turned around to face the new speaker. "Oh, it is you, the vampire guy," Skye said brightly even as Ward began to reach out for his weapon (it was kept out of sight for just such an emergency). "What are you doing here?"

"I, or perhaps we, should be asking the same question," the vampire leaned forwards. His face shifted, melted like wax from a lit flame, becoming decidedly inhuman, with prominent fangs and eyes that glowed golden yellow in the dark. "Rising Tide does not have any contacts in South America-"

"I'm here on personal business," Skye jabbed her finger at Ward. "What about you? Rumor has it that the local colonel has sold you out-"

"The local colonel is much-o loco," the vampire said brightly, "and besides, we're almost done here."

"Done with what?"

"Money, honey. We are making money."

"You're vampires. Why would you want money? To make a deposit at a blood bank?" Ward snapped despite himself: once again Skye appeared to be very friendly with a man who was not him, and for some reason, it grated.

"Very funny," the vampire did not sound actually amused. "But seriously, Master is taking things slow this decade or so, so money-making operation it is. Besides, even your bosses, Rising Tide girl, don't mind having extra cash on hand, so there!"

The vampire was not finished, but Ward certainly was: he fired, and as usual, his aim was true. Sadly, this vampire was not a master or anything like that, but he was fast to leap away almost clear of the bullet, so it was a grazing shot instead. "Get them! I'll handle the money!" the vampire yelled in a surprisingly high-pitched voice and fled inside.

Ward would have followed him, if Skye did not grab him and pulled out of the car, just as a massive body slammed onto it. "That's _not_ a vampire," he heard Skye mutter just as their car went skidding into the water from the massive slam.

It most certainly was not! The two agents (or an agent and a half, depending on how you look at it) were confronted by a muscular, simian giant with overlong arms and stooped shoulders, a low forehead and a jutting jaw and a body covered both in matted hair and a stench of decay. Still, the eyes in its face burned with malevolence and the vampire-proof bullets were not effective against it either.

The second strike sent Ward and Skye apart, which was not good, at least for agent Ward – the giant appeared to be focusing on him and so far Ward was rather outmatched in this particular battle.

"Skye! Any luck on your end?" he yelled as he dodged the enemy's blows: the latter was big and tough but also slow, which was good. However, he was tough enough to endure most of Ward's strikes, and that was bad.

"No!" Skye yelled back. "Though I have an idea... hey, big boy, come here!"

Surprisingly, the giant stopped and went forwards, slowly at first, but picking up speed in subsequent strides – soon he was over at the agents' car, then he stepped onto it and the metal bent, giving way to the giant's weight, and then it exploded.

Well, the car exploded first but the giant went up in an equally large blaze as the blast's force sent it flying into the sky.

"That's overkill," Ward said stiffly, and not just because of the multiple bruises that he had received while dodging the enemy fists.

"I know," Skye said apologetically, "but that was... I have no idea what it was or how to kill it. Sunlight did not appear to work and I tried holy water while you were not looking – also zilch. So I decided to use fire instead..."

"And I cannot say that it was excellent work, but it did work," agent Coulson appeared from behind the talking duo.

"Sir. How are things on your end?" Ward carefully asked, seeing how Skye backed down from this conversation.

"Not much better," Coulson admitted reluctantly. "There was a truck going out of the warehouse at a high speed – we were barely able to avoid it because our car could fly," he said slightly smugly, "while the truck couldn't – it careened off the road and sank."

"Vampires don't need to breathe, sir – I think," Skye said carefully from behind Ward.

"Yes, but they don't work in running water either," Coulson calmly replied. "Anyways, May is in the warehouse, checking it out-" There were a couple of shots and the woman emerged from the building, sooty but unhurt:

"Done. The men are gone, though."

"The bullets worked?"

"Yes. Why shouldn't they?"

A burned and incomplete corpse of the giant Skye and Ward killed finally came down – hard. In the early morning light the burned corpse looked even more grotesque than before. "They don't work on the big ones," Ward explained. "We might have to use something else."

"That's not a vampire," Coulson said thoughtfully. "Anyways, we now need to call the colonel-"

"Sir, we need to talk," Skye finally turned to him.

"I'm listening."

_TBC_


	5. Chapter 5

**Money, Money (epilogue)**

_Disclaimer: none of the characters are mine but belong to Marvel™ and Josh Whedon._

_Note: this story contains spoilers._

_Tumbes, Peru_

"Yes?" Coulson kept his voice level. "What is it?"

"It's about money. And Miles. You transferred his money to the Kwans in the official way, right?"

"Why do you ask?" Coulson still sounded like his usual self, but Ward knew him enough by now to see that the senior agent was slightly worried.

"Well, if..." Skye closed her mouth and decided to try again. "Miles' paranoid. He protects his interests – including financial interests – with so-called viral packets that are very complex pieces of programming – I can make them, he taught me how, but it would take me the better part of a day to make one. He made them regularly, but, anyways, what I am trying to say that if you did the money transfer officially, through a bank, it's fine – Miles permitted, sort of, to do that, to make him look officially clean. But if your cohorts tried to be, um, witty, and hacked Miles' account or anything, odds are – how should I put it – the Kwans, their bank, several other systems, including, possibly, S.H.I.E.L.D. will be hit with many computer problems at once, anti-viral systems in place or not. Do you see where I am going with that?"

"Yes," Coulson's voice was still level, but his face paled and not just because of dawn's still shaky light. "Excuse me; I need to call someone...May!"

"Yes?"

"Agent Coulson means," Ward explained, "that he didn't hear you exiting the warehouse just now. You startled him. Is there a problem?"

"No, not exactly, but there are documents," May admitted, eyeing Coulson, who sort of withdrew to talk with someone on his phone. "What's going on here?"

"We killed a giant," Skye suggested, pointing to the burned and incomplete corpse. "What's going in there?"

"As I said before, there are documents."

Ward and Skye exchanged looks. "The vampire confessed in a roundabout way that he knew about agent Coulson's military friend, and we don't mean commander Camilla," Skye said carefully. "Those documents aren't about that, are they?"

"Aren't about what?" Coulson finally joined the discussion. "What have I missed?"

They told him.

/

The door opened with a slam. "Coulson! Took you a while, didn't it?" he ground at the standing man.

"Oh yes," Coulson's look was anything but friendly, "a while indeed. Sir, I know that in this Catholic country same-sex relationships are frowned upon, but cooperating with vampires is probably a good deal worse."

(This was discovered by Fitz and Simmons while they waited for the field team to report. Internet searching was not their specialty, but Skye already got down all the bases and the duo was brilliant in their own way, so they managed.)

"Bah, the Vatican says nothing about vampires not that I know anything that you're talking about," the colonel's look did not waver.

Neither did Coulson's. "The vampires were planning a double-cross, or preparing for one, I don't care," he said flatly. "But they kept your transactions with them, and we were able to secure them. You allowed them to set-up a moneymaking press in this city and singled-out a pair of professionals – who were involved in a personal relationship – for them to use. No," he interrupted the other man as the colonel tried to speak up, "I don't care whether ideology was involved or if it was just money. Personally, I think that ideology and money never mix but that is just me-"

"Is there a point or do you just like hearing yourself talk?"

"Certainly," Coulson stepped aside, and more people, this time dressed in military uniforms, began to come inside. "Your superiors do not care about vampires particularly much, but when their own begin to get involved in moneymaking operations – literally, in this case, they arise like bears stung in the balls. Camilla's actions could be understood and explained. Yours – not so much. Good-bye, seignior colonel," Coulson turned around and left.

"It isn't over," his former interlocutor shouted even as he was being handcuffed. "It isn't over, Coulson, do you hear me?"

But Coulson did not respond.

/

"Well, that was a fun trip - not," Skye commented quietly to Ward as they and the other crewmembers have gathered in the lounge once more.

"You said it, not I," Ward admitted. "I am not a superstitious person, far from it, but so far I am beginning to seriously dislike Peru and its environs. Wonder if we'll return to it in the future, though..."

"Why not?" Fitz asked innocently. "We've already got experience working here; odds are that we'll be sent here again."

"You two be quiet," Skye snapped at them, only semi-sarcastically. "Why exactly you got into my database and got involved with the deceased men?"

There was a pause. "You make it sound so wrong," Simmons said defensively, "but, truth to tell, lab work is great, but sometimes the two of us do feel like two boxes in an attic gathering dust and all..."

"Well, sir, I see that your plan went off, though with hitches," May quietly turned to Coulson as the younger couples sorted things out between themselves.

"Yes, it has," Coulson nodded thoughtfully. He still did not try Skye, but after the incidents with Camilla and her superior, maybe the problem was not in Skye alone – maybe it was him. "Go me."

May looked at him with some concern, but said nothing – she was a quiet person to begin with. Outside the plane the sky was heavy with clouds and a cold wind was blowing. Autumn was coming – and perhaps something more.

End


End file.
